MARCH 19TH

POOR RICHARD'S ALMANACK

A learned blockhead is a greater blockhead than an ignorant one.

— Benjamin Franklin,1734

AMERICANREVOLUTION.ORG

Sarah Reeve Gibbes

The failure of the British commissioners to
conclude an amicable adjustment of differences between the two
countries - and the ill success of the effort to gain their ends
by private intrigue and bribery - annihilated the hopes of those
who had desired the acceptance by Congress of terms of accommodation.
War was now the only prospect; the reduction of the Colonies
to obedience by force of arms, or the establishment of national
Independence by a protracted struggle. The movements and expeditions
which succeeded the battle of Monmouth - the incursion of the
Indians and tories under Colonel John Butler and Brandt, for
the destruction of the settlement in the lovely valley of Wyoming
- the terrible tragedy of July, with the retaliatory expeditions
against the Indians - and the repetition of the barbarities of
Wyoming at Cherry Valley, in November were the prominent events
that took place in the middle and northern sections of the country
during the remainder of 1778.

The scene of important action was now changed
to the South. In November, Count D'Estaing, with the French fleet,
sailed for the West Indies, to attack the British dependencies
in that quarter. General Sir Henry Clinton, on his part, despatched
Colonel Campbell from New York, on an expedition against Georgia,
the feeblest of the southern provinces. His troops landed late
in December near Savannah, which was then defended by the American
general, Robert Howe. His small force being enfeebled by sickness,
defeat was the consequence of an attack; and the remnant of the
American army retreated into South Carolina. The British having
obtained possession of the capital of Georgia, the plan of reducing
that State and South Carolina was vigorously prosecuted in 1779,
while the armies of Washington and Clinton were employed in the
northern section of the Union. Soon after the fall of Savannah,
General Prevost, with troops from East Florida, took possession
of the only remaining military post in Georgia; and joining his
forces to those of Colonel Campbell, assumed the chief command
of the royal army at the South. The loyalists who came along
the western frontier of Carolina to join his standard committed
great devastations and cruelties on their way. General Lincoln,
who commanded the continental forces in the southern department,
sent a detachment under General Ashe across the Savannah, to
repress the incursions of the enemy, and confine them to the
low country near the sea coast. The surprise and defeat of this
detachment by Prevost completed the subjugation of Georgia.

But in April General Lincoln entered the field
anew, and leaving Moultrie to watch Prevost's movements, commenced
his march up the left bank of the Savannah and crossed into Georgia
near Augusta, with the intention of advancing on the capital.
Prevost attacked Moultrie and Pulaski, compelling them to retreat;
and then hurried to place himself before Charleston. From this
position, however, he was obliged to withdraw on Lincoln's approach.
He proceeded to the island of St. John's, separated from the
mainland by an inlet called Stono River; and leaving a division
at Stono Ferry, retired with a part of his force towards Savannah.
On the 20th of June, Lincoln attacked the division at Stono Ferry,
but was repulsed, The British soon after established a post at
Beaufort, and the main body of the army retired to Savannah.
For some months the hot and sickly season prevented further action
on either side.

The siege of Savannah under D'Estaing and
Lincoln took place early in October, 1779. The Americans were
repulsed, the gallant Pulaski receiving his death wound; and
the enterprise was abandoned. The French fleet departed from
the coast; and General Lincoln retreated into South Carolina.
A cloud of despondency hung over the close of this year. The
flattering hopes inspired by the alliance with France had not
been realized. The continental army reduced in numbers and wretchedly
clothed - the treasury empty - the paper currency rapidly diminishing
in value - distress was brought on all classes, and the prospect
seemed more than ever dark and discouraging. On the other hand,
Britain displayed new resources, and made renewed exertions,
notwithstanding the formidable combination against her. Sir Henry
Clinton determined to make the South his most important field
of operations for the future, and planned the campaign of 1780
on an extensive scale. He arrived in Georgia late in January,
and early in the succeeding month left Savannah for the siege
of Charleston, then defended by General Lincoln. The fleet of
Arbuthnot was anchored in the harbor, and the British overran
the country on the left side of the Cooper river. The surrender
of Charleston on the twelfth of May seemed to secure the recovery
of the southern section of the Union; and Clinton immediately
set about re-establishing the royal government.

The foregoing brief glance at the course of
events during the two years succeeding the evacuation of Philadelphia,
is necessary to prepare the reader for the southern sketches
that follow.

A few hundred yards from a fine landing on
Stono River, upon John's Island, about two hours sail from Charleston,
stands a large, square, ancient looking mansion, strongly built
of brick, with a portico fronting the river. On the side towards
the road, the wide piazza overlooks a lawn; and a venerable live
oak, with aspen, sycamore, and other trees, shade it from the
sun. On either side of the house, about twenty yards distant,
stands a smaller two story building, connected with the main
building by a neat open fence. In one of these is the kitchen
and out-offices; the other was formerly the school-house and
tutor's dwelling. Beyond are the barns, the overseer's house,
and the negro huts appertaining to a plantation. The garden in
old times was very large and well-cultivated, being laid out
in wide walks, and extending from the mansion to the river. The
"river walk," on the verge of a bluff eight or ten
feet in height, followed the bending of the water, and was bordered
with orangetrees. Tall hedges of the evergreen wild orange tree
divided the flower from the vegetable garden, and screened from
view the family burial ground. The beautifully laid out grounds,
and shaded walks, give this place a most inviting aspect, rendering
it such an abode as its name of "Peaceful Retreat"
indicated.

At the period of the Revolution this mansion
was well known throughout the country as a seat of hospitality
and elegant taste. Its owner, Robert Gibbes, was a man of cultivated
mind and refined manners - one of those gentlemen of the old
school of whom South Carolina has justly made her boast. Early
in life he became a martyr to the gout, by which painful disease
his hands and feet were so contracted and crippled that he was
deprived of their use. The only exercise he was able to take
was in a chair on wheels, in which he was placed every day, and
by the assistance of a servant, moved about the house, and through
the garden. The circuit through these walks and along the river
formed his favorite amusement.

Unable, by reason of his misfortune, to take
an active part in the war, his feelings were nevertheless warmly
enlisted on the republican side; and his house was ever open
for the reception and entertainment of the friends of liberty.
He had married Miss Sarah Reeve, she being at the time about
eighteen years of age. Notwithstanding her youth, she had given
evidence that she possessed a mind of no common order. The young
couple had a house in Charleston, but spent the greater part
of their time at their country seat and plantation upon John's
Island. Here Mrs. Gibbes devoted herself with earnestness to
the various duties before her; for in consequence of her husband's
infirmities, the management of an extensive estate with the writing
on business it required, devolved entirely upon her. In addition
to a large family of her own, she had the care of the seven orphan
children of Mrs. Fenwick, the sister of Mr. Gibbes, who at her
death had left them and their estate to his guardianship. Two
other children - one her nephew, Robert Barnwell - were added
to her charge. The multiplied cares involved in meeting all these
responsibilities, with the superintendence of household concerns,
required a rare degree of energy and activity; yet the mistress
of this well ordered establishment had always a ready and cordial
welcome for her friends, dispensing the hospitalities of "Peaceful
Retreat," with a grace and cheerful politeness that rendered
it a most agreeable resort.

It was doubtless the fame of the luxurious
living at this delightful country seat which attracted the attention
of the British during the invasion of Prevost, while the royal
army kept possession of the seaboard. A battalion of British
and Hessians, determined to quarter themselves in so desirable
a spot, arrived at the landing at the dead of night, and marching
up in silence, surrounded the house. The day had not yet begun
to dawn, when an aged and faithful servant tapped softly at the
door of Mrs. Gibbes' apartment. The whisper "Mistress, the
redcoats are all around the house," was the first intimation
given of their danger. "Tell no one, Cæsar, but keep
all quiet," she replied promptly; and her preparations were
instantly commenced to receive the intruders. Having dressed
herself quickly, she went up-stairs, waked several ladies who
were guests in the house, and requested them to rise and dress
with all possible haste. In the meantime the domestics were directed
to prepare the children, of whom, with her own eight and those
under her care, there were sixteen; the eldest being only fifteen
years old. These were speedily dressed and seated in the spacious
hall. Mrs. Gibbes then assisted her husband, as was always her
custom -to rise and dress, and had him placed in his rolling
chair. All these arrangements were made without the least confusion,
and so silently, that the British had no idea anyone was yet
awake within the house. The object of Mrs. Gibbes was to prevent
violence on the enemy's part, by showing them at once that the
mansion was inhabited only by those who were unable to defend
themselves. The impressive manner in which this was done produced
its effect. The invaders had no knowledge that the inmates were
aware of their presence, till daylight, when they heard the heavy
rolling of Mr. Gibbes' chair across the great hall towards the
front door. Supposing the sound to be the rolling of a cannon,
the soldiers advanced, and stood prepared with pointed bayonets
to rush in, when the signal for assault should be given. But
as the door was thrown open, and the stately form of the invalid
presented itself, surrounded by women and children, they drew
back, and - startled into an involuntary expression of respect
-presented arms. Mr. Gibbes addressed them - yielding, of course,
to the necessity that could not be resisted. The officers took
immediate possession of the house, leaving the premises to their
men, and extending no protection against pillage. The soldiers
roved at their pleasure about the plantation, helping themselves
to whatever they chose; breaking into the wine room, drinking
to intoxication, and seizing upon and carrying off the negroes.
A large portion of the plate was saved by the provident care
of a faithful servant, who secretly buried it. Within the mansion
the energy and self-possession of Mrs. Gibbes still protected
her family. The appearance of terror or confusion might have
tempted the invaders to incivility; but it was impossible for
them to treat otherwise than with deference, a lady whose calm
and quiet deportment commanded their respect. Maintaining her
place as mistress of her household, And presiding at her table,
she treated her uninvited guests with a dignified courtesy that
ensured civility while it prevented presumptuous familiarity.
The boldest and rudest among them bowed involuntarily to an influence
which fear or force could not have secured.

When the news reached Charleston that the
British had encamped on Mr. Gibbes' plantation, the authorities
in the city despatched two galleys to dislodge them. These vessels
ascended the river in the night, and arriving opposite, opened
a heavy fire upon the invaders' encampment. The men had received
strict injunctions not to fire upon the house, for fear of injury
to any of the family. It could not, however, be known to Mr.
Gibbes that such a caution had been given; and as soon as the
Americans began their fire, dreading some accident, he proposed
to his wife that they should take the children and seek a place
of greater safety. Their horses being in the enemy's hands, they
had no means of conveyance; but Mrs. Gibbes, with energies roused
to exertion by the danger, and anxious only to secure shelter
for her helpless charge, set off to walk with the children to
an adjoining plantation situated in the interior. A drizzling
rain was falling, and the weather was extremely chilly; the fire
was incessant from the American guns, and sent (in order to avoid
the house) in a direction which was in a range with the course
of the fugitives. The shot, failing around them, cut the bushes,
and struck the trees on every side. Exposed each moment to this
imminent danger, they continued their flight with as much haste
as possible, for about a mile, till beyond the reach of the shot.

Having reached the houses occupied by the
negro laborers on the plantation, they stopped for a few moments
to rest. Mrs. Gibbes, wet, chilled, and exhausted by fatigue
and mental anxiety, felt her strength utterly fail, and was obliged
to wrap herself in a blanket and lie down upon one of the beds.
It was at this time, when the party first drew breath freely
- with thankfulness that the fears of death were over - that
on reviewing the trembling group to ascertain if all had escaped
uninjured, it was found that a little boy, John Fenwick, was
missing. In the hurry and terror of their flight the child had
been forgotten and left behind! What was now to be done ? The
servants refused to risk their lives by returning for him; and
in common humanity, Mr. Gibbes could not insist that any one
should undertake the desperate adventure. The roar of the distant
guns was still heard, breaking at short intervals the deep silence
of the night. The chilly rain was failing, and the darkness was
profound. Yet the thought of abandoning the helpless boy to destruction,
was agony to the hearts of his relatives. In this extremity the
self-devotion of a young girl interposed to save him. Mary Anna,
the eldest daughter of Mrs. Gibbes, then only thirteen years
of age, determined to venture back in spite of the fearful peril
-alone. The mother dared not oppose her noble resolution, which
seemed indeed an inspiration of heaven; and she was permitted
to go. Hastening along the path with all the speed of which she
was capable, she reached the house, still in the undisturbed
possession of the enemy; and entreated permission from the sentinel
to enter; persisting, in spite of refusal, till by earnest importunity
of supplication, she gained her object. Searching anxiously through
the house, she found the child in a room in a third story, and
lifting him joyfully in her arms, carried him down, and fled
with him to the spot where her anxious parents were awaiting
her return. The shot still flew thickly around her, frequently
throwing up the earth in her way; but protected by the Providence
that watches over innocence, she joined the rest of the family
in safety. The boy, saved on this occasion by the intrepidity
of the young girl, was the late General Fenwick, distinguished
for his services in the last war with Great Britain. "Fenwick
Place," still called "Headquarters," was three
miles from "Peaceful Retreat."

Major Garden, who after the war married Mary
Anna Gibbes, mentions this intrepid action. There are a few errors
in his account; he calls the boy who was left "a distant
relation," and says the dwelling-house was fired on by the
Americans. The accomplished lady who communicated the particulars
to me, heard them from her grandmother, Mrs. Gibbes; and the
fact that the house was not fired upon is attested by a near
relative now living. The house never bore any marks of shot;
though balls and grapeshot have been often found on the plantation.
Again-Garden says the family "were allowed to remain in
some of the upper apartments;" and were at last "ordered
to quit the premises," implying that they were treated with
some severity as prisoners.

This could not have been the case; as Mrs.
Gibbes constantly asserted that she presided at her own table,
and spoke of the respect and deference with which she was uniformly
treated by the officers. Her refusal to yield what she deemed
a right ensured civility toward herself and household.

The family Bible, from which the parentage
of General Fenwick might have been ascertained, was lost during
the Revolution, and only restored to the family in the summer
of 1847.

Some time after these Occurrences, when the
family were again inmates of their own home, a battle was fought
in a neighboring field. When the conflict was over, Mrs. Gibbes
sent her servants to search among the slain left upon the battle-ground,
for Robert Barnwell, her nephew, who had not returned. They discovered
him by part of his dress, which one of the blacks remembered
having seen his mother making. His face was so covered with wounds,
dust and blood, that he could not be recognized. Yet life was
not extinct; and under the unremitting care of his aunt and her
young daughter, he recovered. His son, Robert W. Barnwell, was
for some years president of the South Carolina College.

Scenes like these were often witnessed by
the subject of this sketch, and on more than a few occasions
did she suffer acute anxiety on account of the danger of those
dear to her. She was accustomed to point out the spot where her
eldest son, when only sixteen years old, had been placed as a
sentinel, while British vessels were in the river, and their
fire was poured on him. She would relate how, with a mother's
agony of solicitude, she watched the balls as they struck the
earth around him, while the youthful soldier maintained his dangerous
post, notwithstanding the entreaties of an old negro hid behind
a tree, that he would leave it. Through such trials, the severity
of which we who enjoy the peace so purchased cannot fully estimate,
she exhibited the same composure, and readiness to meet every
emergency, with the same benevolent sympathy for others. During
the struggle, while Carolina was invaded or in a state of defence,
her house was at different times the quarters of friend and foe.
The skirmishes were frequent, and many who went forth in the
morning in health and vigor, returned no more; nor did she know
from day to day who were next to be her guests.

Mrs. Gibbes had a cultivated taste; and amidst
her many cares still found leisure for literary occupation. Volumes
of her writings remain, filled with well-selected extracts from
the many books she read, accompanied by her own comments; with
essays on various subjects, copies of letters to her friends,
and poetry. Everything from her pen evinces delicacy as well
as strength of mind, extensive information, and refinement of
taste, with the tenderest sensibility, and a deep tone of piety.
Most of her letters were written after the war, and throw no
additional light on the feeling or manners of that period.

She was in the habit of putting aside locks
of hair enclosed with appropriate poetical tributes, as mementoes
of her departed friends; and many of these touching memorials
have been found among her papers. For fifteen years she was deprived
of sight, but lost nothing of her cheerfulness, or the engaging
grace of her manner; nor was her conversation less interesting
or entertaining to her visitors. A stranger, who shortly before
her death was at her house with a party of friends, whom she
delighted by her conversation, expressed great surprise on being
informed she was blind.

During the latter part of her life, she resided
at Wilton, the country-seat of Mrs. Barnard Elliott, where she
died in 1825, at the age of seventy-nine. Her remains rest in
the family burial-ground upon John's Island. A beautiful monumental
inscription in St. Paul's church, Charleston, records the virtues
that adorned her character, and the faith which sustained her
under many afflictions.